Hold Your Breath 03 - My Captain, My Earl

by K. J. Jackson

  He stretched the two of them long on the skinny bed, wedging himself between her and the side wall. “You have to trust me, Katalin.

  She nodded into his chest. “I do. I have to. I trust you.”

  His hand clenched into the thick of her hair. “Good. That was not so hard? Because I know the enormity of those words coming from you.”

  She laughed and a pain sliced through her side. She ignored it. “No. Not as hard as I thought.” She tilted her head up, her chin on his chest so she could see his face. “You look strong, my earl. Useful. I think I will keep you.”

  He chuckled. “Anything to serve my captain. That is the code.”

  ~~~

  Jason allowed himself to take his first real breath since their ship had approached the Wake Ripper. Katalin was still in his arms, still asleep, as she had been for hours. Her chest now moved with even, deep breaths, and his lips on her forehead told him no fever had started. It was what he had feared since he had seen her wounds up close. She wasn’t free from an infection, but all seemed well so far in her body.

  He adjusted his arm under her, angling so blood could flow better to his hand. Watching the moonlight cast shadows through the stained glass lining the back of the captain’s quarters, he instinctively tightened his hold on her. He knew he should be sleeping as well, but the lie he had just told Katalin weighed too heavily in his mind.

  He had no idea if Josalyn was safe. Not the slightest knowledge of her whereabouts.

  He hated lying to Katalin, but couldn’t bear to tell her that he didn’t know if Josalyn was truly safe. He’d had to leave England without knowing his daughter’s fate.

  Devin had found a trail through his contacts and had been close to finding Josalyn by the time Jason had boarded the Sweetbriar. But then the tide started to move out.

  Desperate, Jason had waited for word from Devin until the last remnants of the tide were disappearing. But word did not come.

  So he had been forced to leave on faith. Faith that his brother-in-law would not fail him. Not fail his family.

  A severe test of his own ability to trust, it had been the hardest thing Jason had ever done—leaving port without knowing if his daughter was safe. Placing all of his trust in Devin and his ability to find Josalyn.

  He just hoped his trust was not misplaced.

  Just hoped his world was not about to crumble.

  { Chapter 25 }

  The sway of the carriage into the thick of London helped with the switch to dry land. Her arm fully entwined in Jason’s, Katalin looked across the rented hack at Killian, who still wore the buckskin breeches and simple white shirt he had favored on the ship. Having only known him dressed in society’s finery, she had gotten used to seeing him relaxed in the simplicity of ship life. And he had dispensed with Katalin calling him Lord Southfork days into the journey back to England.

  Katalin had surmised it was awkward for Killian to be the only one on the ship with a title, since everyone on Roland’s crew still called Jason either “boy,” or if they were feeling generous, “Jase,” even though they all now knew he was an earl. And Jason, man that he was, let them have their fun with good humor.

  Both she and Jason still wore their ship-wear, him in slops and a loose linen shirt, and her in breeches, and a white shirt topped with a dark blue vest.

  But far from the relaxed ease on the ship during the journey back to England, Katalin noted crispness in the air of the carriage, and it was not just the chill of the winter weather. Both her husband and Killian looked unusually nervous—more nervous than they had been in the past weeks.

  Katalin wondered at it—all was right with the world, they were back in London, she was about to see her little girl, so why were they both suspiciously twitchy?

  She looked up at Jason, leaning into his warmth. “What is amiss? You have not said two words since we left the docks.” Her eyes swung to Killian. “And neither have you.”

  Killian offered up a half-smile with a shrug, but it was clear his mouth was clamped shut.

  She looked back to her husband. “Jason?”

  His forearm flexed against her fingers and he patted her hand. “It is nothing, Kat. There were some details that were not worked out before we left on the Sweetbriar to come after you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Details? What details?”

  “Details about your father and Daunte.”

  “Jason. You said I was safe—that Josalyn was safe—is that not true?”

  “It is, Kat. Do not fret. You are safe, but we just do not know the full details of what went into that. It is why we are headed to the duke’s home. He has the details.”

  The look that exchanged between the two men did not go unnoticed by Katalin, and the sudden tension in her shoulders only tightened.

  They rode in uncomfortable silence until they reached the duke’s townhouse. Katalin untangled herself from Jason, ready to hurry into the home, but Jason grabbed her wrist.

  “Let us hold here for a moment. We do not know where anyone is. Killian will go in and check on everyone’s whereabouts.”

  Leaning back against the thin cushion of the hired hack, Katalin sighed, trying to hold back sudden tears. All she wanted to do was hold Josalyn, and the last few hours had been agonizing in the wait.

  “I do not care for whatever it is you are refusing to tell me, Jase. If this is how you intend to take care of me—by rogue looks among men and by holding things back—I do think I would rather go back to browbeating you for information.”

  “The wait is just as hard for me, Katalin, probably more so.” His hand went her face, turning it so she had to look him in the eye. “Everything I have done—it is to make your world safe. You have to believe that. Believe that for just a few more minutes.”

  The flecks of brown in his green eyes deepened in color, and Katalin nodded. If this was the trust he was asking her for, she would give it. She had no reason not to trust him.

  The carriage door opened and Killian stuck his head in. “They are all here.”

  Jason jumped to his feet, crouching so his head didn’t bang the carriage roof. “Everyone?”

  Killian smiled. “Everyone.”

  Katalin watched Jason’s face melt into relief. She spun to Killian. “Josalyn’s inside?”

  “Yes.”

  Before Killian got the word fully out, Katalin had pushed past him, jumping from the coach and running up the marble stairs to the front door. A tall footman was quick to his job and had the door open before Katalin needed to slow.

  She skidded to a stop in the front foyer and glanced back at the footman.

  He pointed. “Down the hall to your left, in the library, my lady.”

  Katalin took off again, Jason now at her heels. She could hear voices and almost slid past the open door on her left before she realized it was the room the voices came from.

  She saw the back of Aggie first, and Aggie turned, her baby boy in her arms, and smiled. Realizing she was in the path of what Katalin needed, she took a step sideways.

  Katalin froze.

  There, in the middle of the floor, Josalyn laughed, tossing a knitted ball across the floor. Tossing the ball to, of all people, Katalin’s mother.

  Her mother—on the floor, laughing.

  Katalin’s jaw dropped. Her mother, on the floor, playing with her daughter. Granted, her mother was on a thick Persian rug, but still—remarkably—on the floor.

  Josalyn looked up, seeing Katalin. “Mama!” she squealed.

  Before Josalyn could get to her feet, Katalin found her legs and was across the library to her daughter in a second, sweeping her little girl into her arms.

  For minutes she squeezed her daughter, her heart bursting, trying to hold in the sobs that she knew would scare Josalyn, and failing at it miserably.

  It wasn’t until Josalyn had nearly wiggled out of the death grip Katalin had on her, that Katalin opened her eyes. Her mother, now standing, Aggie, and her father sitting in a side chair were all
watching her.

  She looked around the room. Killian was near to groping Reanna in the corner of the library. Spinning, her eyes found Jason, only to see he was whispering with the duke next to the sideboard. Jason eyes were pinned on the back of her father’s head, his mouth a tight line, eyebrows pulled together.

  Decidedly unhappy with whatever the duke was telling him. Details.

  Jason glanced up, only to see Katalin watching him.

  She shook her head slightly in confusion, in question.

  It was answered with an obvious sigh, and the tight line of Jason’s mouth went tighter. He walked over to her, his hand gently capping Josalyn’s head. She oozed charm back at her father.

  Jason smiled at Josalyn as he set his lips at Katalin’s ear. “There are some things that it would be best for your father to tell you. It concerns Daunte,” Jason whispered.

  Katalin froze for a moment, tightening, then spun to her father. “Father? You need to speak to me?”

  “Aye. There be some things I need to explain to you, child. But they can wait.”

  “What things, Father?” She stepped to him. “I do not think they can wait.”

  Her father grabbed his cane, pulling himself up to his full height from the leather chair he sat in. “Please, child, not in here. In the study.”

  Katalin turned to her mother and knelt, sliding Josalyn to the floor. “Josie, will you stay with your grand—Lady Pent—”

  “Meme.” Her mother’s crisp word cut Katalin’s fumble.

  Katalin glanced at her mother, startled. She looked to Josalyn. “With Meme for just a moment? I see she has a book to read and I will be right back, my sweet melon.”

  Giggling, her daughter scooted over to her grandmother. Katalin stood, eyebrows arched at Jason as she walked out of the room, following Devin to his study. Jason’s face gave her no indication as to what her father needed to tell her, other than it was serious.

  In the study, Katalin stood with arms crossed over her belly, watching her father seat himself in an arm-chair, his hands resting on the top of his thick mahogany cane. Jason and the duke stood at the side of the room in front of a wide wall of bookcases, both their faces stone.

  “What do you need to tell me, Father?”

  “I will not bandy about it child. Daunte is my brother.”

  “What?” Katalin staggered a step backward, sinking to the leather settee behind her.

  “I could never tell you, child. Not for the things he has made me do. Made you do.”

  She shook her head, having to repeat the words in her own voice. “Daunte is your brother?”

  “Aye. And he remains in the land of the living.”

  She jumped to her feet, whipping to Jason, eyes wide. “Alive? You lied? You said I was safe. That Josalyn was safe. But Daunte is alive?” She rounded back to her father. “Alive? Bloody hell, if he is alive, then—hell, and he is your brother?”

  Her father’s hand came up, halting her. “Aye, he is my brother, the eldest. And he is a baron. I never told you child, because I wanted to keep you safe from him. If you never knew of him, then he could never harm you. I was just trying to keep you safe, lass.”

  Katalin stormed to him. “Your version of keeping me safe, Father, has always been warped. How could you do this? How could you not tell me who he was? How could you let him take Josalyn? All of this.” Her arm swung wide. “All of this could have been avoided.”

  Her father’s cane slammed onto the wooden floor. “Silence, child. I will not have you question my authority. What I have done for you. What I have done to keep you from harm.”

  “Keep me from harm?” she guffawed.

  “Kat—” Jason tried to interrupt her.

  She didn’t even glance at Jason as she cut him off, her eyes narrowing on her father. “No, Jase. No. My father wrought this, and he does not escape responsibility because he tried to protect me. The very damn thing he tried to protect me from, I could have protected myself from—my daughter from—had I known the truth.” She stepped a toe to nudge her father’s cane. “Keep me from harm, Father? How have you kept me from harm? All this time. How has hiding the truth from me kept me safe? It has not done so—far from it.”

  “I did not think you would get it in your head to sneak off and commandeer the Windrunner, the crew,” he thundered at her, his good eye flashing rage. “You disappoint me, child.”

  “I…I disappoint you?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief from shrilling her voice. “I was dead, Father. Dead the moment I set foot on the Wake Ripper—and I would be at the bottom of the sea right now were it not for Jason.”

  “He knew as well, child. Before he left for you, he knew who Daunte was. The man left before his own daughter was safe—left it to another to get her back—I would never have done that to my daughter.”

  Her gaze fluttered from her father to Jason.

  Jason made no motion to deny. No words to say it wasn’t true.

  Katalin straightened, the horror of her father’s words filtering into her mind. Jason would not have left before Josalyn was safe. No. He couldn’t have. He could not have left their child in danger and then lied to her about it.

  But there he stood, accepting her silent judgment. Making no excuse for actions done.

  Just as she picked up her foot to attack Jason, an instant of clarity hit her.

  Her eyes crept down to her father.

  “No. You tore me away from him once, Father. You will not do so again. Whatever Jason did, he did to keep me safe. To keep Josalyn safe. I do not question his choices, Father.”

  “Your husband entrusted me to get Josalyn back, Lady Clapinshire,” the duke said, breaking his silence. “Jason did not want to leave, but I was in the best position to find Josalyn and bring her home safely. He was in the best position to bring you home safely.”

  Katalin looked at the duke, her face softening. “Thank you, your grace. For that, I will forever be indebted to you. I cannot express my gratitude for my daughter’s life.”

  “You are family, Lady Clapinshire. In a heartbeat, Jason would do the same for Andrew were the situations reversed. No thanks are necessary.”

  “Your grace, I gather you now know everything about Daunte—my uncle?”

  He nodded.

  “Why is he not dead?”

  The duke kept his mouth closed, but his eyes did slip to her father.

  “Father. Why is Daunte not dead?”

  Shaking his weathered head, her father sighed. A beaten sigh of sadness. “He is my brother, child. I could not.” His voice was low. “The duke gave me the option. The pistol was in my hand. In my hand. And I could not do it. I could not be the death of my own brother. He is blood.”

  “He is blood? Blood?” Her fist pounded on her own chest. “I am blood. Your blood. What about that? After all you have done in your life—the lives you have taken—this, this is the one you leave alive—the one that can crush me? Take my daughter?”

  “I am sorry, child. I have failed you in this. But I cannot kill my brother.”

  Shaking her head—pity obvious even though she knew her father couldn’t see it well enough to recognize it—Katalin took a step backward, drawing a breath.

  She looked to Jason. “So that is it? I am to live with constantly looking over my shoulder? Not letting Josalyn out of my sight? Where is the justice?”

  “It is not what I wanted to hear, either, Kat, but it is what is right in the situation,” Jason said.

  “Right?”

  “It is a gentleman’s agreement, Lady Clapinshire,” the duke said. “Lord Walton—Daunte—knows who you are, he knows your daughter, but more importantly, we all know who he is now. What he has done. And we hold considerable more power than he. We all know the story. Any one of us could bring him down—the forged letters of marque would give us a case of treason against him. But we will not. He will not be tried for treason, and you will not be tried for piracy.”

  “Because if I testified against him
, everyone would know who I am, what I have done?”

  “Correct. If you will not tell, he will not tell. As much as he can harm you, you can harm him tenfold. The ships you took for him. The list your father has. All of it can be traced back to him. He would not dare chance it, no matter what we take from him—which has been quite a bit, since you have been away. We are slowly and as painfully as possible, dismantling his life. But you are untouchable. Josalyn is untouchable.” The duke paused, glancing at Jason before he continued on. “And you should both know that he is not long for this earth. I have learned from several sources, that the blood he has been coughing up has become thicker, more frequent.”

  Katalin looked to Jason. “I am just to accept this? Accept that this man gets to live after all he has done? I do not care if he is on his way to hell. He deserves to be there now. This is our daughter, Jase.”

  Jason put his hand up to Katalin, looking to the duke and her father. “Can you two please excuse us?”

  “Of course,” the duke said, waiting at the door until Katalin’s father managed to his feet and stepped out before him into the hall.

  Jason waited, jawline throbbing, silently staring at Katalin until the door slid closed.

  “I do not care for this either, Katalin,” Jason said. “The bastard should be dead. But you talk about the code on your ship—this is no different. This would be the code of the peers. The same code that you wanted to use to your advantage when you came to England. A gentleman’s agreement amongst peers is binding.”

  “And if he chooses to unbind it?”

  Jason stepped across the room to her, grabbing her shoulders, and he leaned in, his forehead touching hers. “Then I will kill him myself, Kat. You have given your trust to me. Do not lose faith in it now. I hate that he is alive—more so than you after what he did to you, to us, to our daughter. I will kill him without the slightest hesitation. So believe me when I say I will be vigilant against the slightest threat from him. You are safe. Josalyn is safe.”

  Katalin’s eyes closed, and she took a deep breath, drawing in Jason’s essence. She was preparing to argue, but instead of opening her mouth, the calmest feeling engulfed her. Jason’s hands on her shoulders, his forehead on hers, his breath against hers.